A Priest at the Altar: at the First Mass of Father Thomas Sharp.

We are here to make eucharist with Father Thomas. He is among us as a new priest, just a few hours old. Eucharist means thanksgiving. At this mass, we give thanks for all the priests God has given to his church in this ordination season. Especially for Thomas whom we surround with our prayers and our affection on this first day of his journey in the priesthood, the day that sets the course for the rest of his life.

Our readings are those of the festival of St Mary of the Angels. The Basilica of that name just below Assisi is holy place for all Franciscans. It was there at the little Portiuncula church that is now inside it that Francis heard Jesus’ words about his disciples leaving everything behind to follow him. This is what he did. Throwing off his staff and shoes, he set out on the road as a poor brother of the Lord who had nowhere to lay his head. Others joined him, who became known as the Order of Friars Minor.

I spent last week in retreat with the deacon candidates with the Franciscans at Alnmouth, a place I know well from my days as Vicar of Alnwick. I was struck once again by the intensity of the Franciscan vision of a life yielded up to the fierce and wonderful love of God, living close to the earth in the company of all his creatures, embracing poverty as a vocation. When such a vision is truly realised, it is life-changing.  

It must have been a real annunciation for Francis when God spoke to him in words of fire. Like Isaiah’s temple vision, like Mary with the angel, there is only one response that could do justice to the encounter. When you look into the face of God, what else can you say but “here am I, send me”; “behold the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word”? In such annunciations worlds meet: God’s and ours face each other. There is recognition. Edwin Muir’s poem puts it like this:

Each reflects the other’s face,
Till heaven in hers and earth in his
Shine steady there

And this is the pattern of things: a divine annunciation, a mutual recognition, and then a “yes” to a vocation to start walking through the door the angel is opening. This is how it has been for Thomas in his vocation that has brought him to the altar on this day. This is how it is for everyone called to a ministry in God’s church. This is how it is for us in baptism. God comes to us and calls us by name and claims us as his own. And we start our lifelong walk in Christ. You could say that all of Christianity comes down to this: annunciations of God’s mercy and kindness; God’s recognition of us and we of him; that open door, that “yes” to God, that walk into his future that is the new life of grace.

This is true of the eucharist as well. As the emblem of God’s love, the eucharist itself recognises us, beckons us to come, invites us to the banquet, draws us to this place of love, gathers us around God’s altar. And Thomas is our representative, our intercessor, our priest. When he offers the bread and the wine, when he lifts up his hands towards heaven to say the blessing, when he breaks the bread and gives it to us, it is in the name of the church that he does these things. In our name. And more than anything else, in God’s holy name, because we are his and one anothers’ companions, bread-sharers as Christ’s body. The eucharist recognises us. It recognises Thomas as our priest. In the eucharistic action, there is an annunciation that says, “come unto me, all who labour and are heavy-laden, and I will refresh you”. We come, we are glad, we eat and drink. And life is changed, transfigured. We see things in new ways. Like Francis, like Mary, like Isaiah. 

These are deep and wonderful truths of the Christian life that we celebrate today. The word immensity comes to mind. John Donne uses it in his great poem on the Annunciation story. “Immensity cloistered in thy dear womb” he says as he imagines himself in the presence of Blessed Mary and of the divine humanity that is beginning to grow within her. I think we can transfer that wondering gaze to the eucharist too: immensity cloistered in the humble earthy creatures of bread and wine:

Sweet sacrament divine, earth’s light and jubilee,
In thy far depths doth shine the Godhead’s majesty

“Here O my Lord I see thee face to face.” Today, Thomas has become a priest of these things. He has gone through the open door that annunciation has pointed him towards. As the president of the eucharist, he opens up doors of possibility for us too, annunciations without number of the immensity of God’s majesty and love that shine in the body and blood of the crucified and risen Lord. Here we touch the mystery of God. And find that it is the mystery of our own selves too who feed on angels’ bread, touched by God, his children for ever for whom eucharistia is at the heart of everything: thankfulness, celebration, joy without end.

At the First Mass of Fr Thomas Sharp, Church of the Holy Nativity, Newcastle
1 July 2018
Isaiah 6.1-5, Luke 1.46-55